


The Devil's Doorbell

by la_muerta



Series: Nephilim Falls [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Western, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Outtakes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Wild West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_muerta/pseuds/la_muerta
Summary: The afternoon is lazy, golden. They have hours yet before the Pandemonium is due to open and Maia has to get ready for the night. They lie facing each other, propped up on their elbows, mirror images of each other - their bodies curve at the same places, which is a new experience for them both. Maia is the ex-prostitute, the debauchee; Izzy is the flower of the town, who had come to Maia's arms a virgin. But that hardly makes Izzy an innocent.--A short scene between Izzy and Maia, set in the universe ofLove Is A Gamble, but you don't necessarily need to have read the main fic.





	The Devil's Doorbell

**Author's Note:**

> So... this happened because [bonibaru](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru/pseuds/bonibaru) prompted me with a title on twitter :P Someone apparently decided to call the clitoris "the Devil's doorbell", and here we are.
> 
> I always feel bad about not being able to properly explore the other relationships in the fic because my story is told from Magnus and Alec's POV. So this is an out-take/missing scene, set during the events of Chapter 12 in the main fic.

  

"How's your brother?" 

"Can we not talk about my brother when I'm in bed with you?" Izzy wrinkles her nose, and Maia laughs. 

The afternoon is lazy, golden. They have hours yet before the Pandemonium is due to open and Maia has to get ready for the night. And even then, she'll be wrapped in a fabulous dress sewn by Izzy's talented fingers, the painstakingly hand-stitched garments hugging her body like very tight armour - a reminder to herself that all the men out there trying to undress her with their eyes don't get to have this. She is protected, and even if she is used to taking care of herself just fine.

Clary's voice, clear and sweet as a bell, drifts up from downstairs, accompanied by the banjo _and_ the piano. It's a rarity for Raphael to be playing the piano when the Pandemonium isn't open for business yet. He must be in one of those moods where he obviously wants to tell Simon something but can't get his head out of his ass long enough to do it with actual words. 

"I feel bad that I keep running Clary out of her room," Izzy says. 

"It'd be awkward if she stayed - I don't think Clary likes to watch, and you know I think every moment not spent kissing you is wasted time," Maia teases.

"Maia!" Izzy admonishes, but she is laughing. Then, with one hand tracing the curves of Maia's body lightly, she says, "I must say, I agree - every moment not spent kissing you is wasted time."

The covers are thrown back off the bed and they are unapologetically bare-bodied. They lie facing each other, propped up on their elbows, mirror images of each other - their bodies curve at the same places, which is a new experience for them both. Neither of them are shy about their obvious attractiveness or attraction to each other. Maia is the ex-prostitute, the debauchee; Izzy is the flower of the town, who had come to Maia's arms a virgin. But that hardly makes Izzy an innocent.

Izzy is brave, and bold, and loves without holding anything back.

Izzy shoots her a mischievous grin, then starts kissing her way down Maia's body, her kisses full of promise - promises of love, and pleasure.  

Maia may have been with countless men before she met Izzy, but when she is spread underneath her lover like this it feels different, and not because Izzy is a woman. Under Izzy's tender gaze she isn't just a fantasy, a projection of someone else that the men she used to service left behind - a wife, a childhood sweetheart, or a pretty girl they lusted after but could never have. She isn't expected to be anybody else other than Maia. 

Back before Maia bought her own freedom from the whorehouse, the other whores would sit around sometimes and talk about being rescued by a rich man - didn't even have to be young, just rich enough to take care of them for the rest of their lives. Maia had never joined in those talks, and Maia hadn't needed a man to rescue her from that miserable life. But Izzy has saved her, in a different way. Izzy showed her that someone would love her for who she was - scars, past and all.

Izzy places her hands behind Maia's knees and pushes them over her own pale shoulders, then presses a row of gentle kisses from Maia's left knee down almost to where Maia wants her - then from the right knee down. Then Izzy's breath is on her sex, and Maia is quivering as if she is the inexperienced one.

"Izzy, _please_ ," Maia says.

Izzy smiles up at her, then kisses her sex, soft and chaste, until her clever tongue slips out from between her lips and Maia is lost in the soft circles Izzy traces with her tongue, the pressure and the speed building up until Maia arches up and shudders against Izzy's mouth. 

Izzy gently laves at Maia until she comes down properly from her peak, then she crawls back up over Maia's body to kiss her. “Was that alright?” Izzy asks, her lips tasting salty and heady, and Maia wants to laugh, because _of course_ it was. Instead, she just bumps Izzy's nose gently with hers and kisses her again, rolling Izzy under her.

She kisses down Izzy's jaw, down to her neck, and gently cradles the soft weight of Izzy's breasts in her hand. She rolls a nipple between her thumb and finger, and Izzy's breath hitches in her chest. Maia fits her mouth over the other nipple, and flicks it with her tongue - Izzy keens and arches off the bed. Maia's fingers map out the soft lines of Izzy's body, taking her time until she finally slips two fingers inside Izzy. She is still wet from their previous activities, or perhaps already wet from their current ones. Izzy is biting her bottom lip, eyes darting rapidly between Maia's face and mouth, and what Maia's fingers are doing between her legs. 

Maia moves from gentle strokes to faster ones, curling her fingers up and twisting each time before pulling back. Then Izzy is fluttering and shuddering around Maia with every thrust, biting her lips hard to keep quiet.

“Maia-!”

Izzy is breathtaking like this, head thrown back in abandon - her body beautifully taut in the throes of ecstasy. Maia eases her fingers out of Izzy's trembling body, and kisses her forehead.  

The singing downstairs has stopped. They should make themselves presentable before Clary comes back and gets an eyeful - soon. But they can hold each other in their arms for just a little while more.


End file.
